


In Spite of Nothing

by curds_and_wheyface



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Handcuffs, M/M, Mafia AU, Rimming, Sequel, Tongue-in-cheek, thorki anthology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curds_and_wheyface/pseuds/curds_and_wheyface
Summary: When Laufey and Odin's dealings turn sour, Loki follows Thor to a remote cabin in the hopes of finding some semblence of normality, if only for a while.Sequel to my mafia AU 'In Spite of Everything'.





	In Spite of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Tongue In Cheek: A Thorki Anthology](https://thorki-anthology.tumblr.com/), this is a sequel to my mafia AU, [In Spite of Everything](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187936/chapters/14179054/).
> 
> Be sure to check out the rest of the anthology, it's full of not only wonderful fic but incredible fan art too!

Pulling his car to a stop, Loki glanced down at the scribbled address in his lap before looking back up at the building - if it could even reasonably be called that.  
  
Wide, knotted logs made up the outer walls, darkened with damp and probably half-rotted. Thick cushions of white snow hid the roof, porch beams and window sills, though Loki expected that those were equally as worn underneath.  
  
The place appeared to be in complete darkness.

Bracing himself for the cold he stepped out of his car, opting to leave his night bag on the backseat in case he'd been directed out here, into the middle of fucking nowhere, as some sort of prank.

Thor’s bike was nowhere to be seen but a weather-worn pickup truck, dull red and rusted in places, had been poorly parked just a metre or so from the uneven porch steps.

The heavy door gave with a pitiful groan when Loki shouldered at it and, though it felt no warmer inside, his gaze was drawn to the orange glow of a small wood fire, partially hidden by the breadth of Thor’s shoulders as he tended to it.

Loki let out a breath of relief.

Thor turned his head only enough to glance Loki’s way, his hair appearing even more golden than usual in the light of the fire. “You found it okay, then?”

He’d sent a vague text about ‘knowing a place’ weeks ago, when things had first started to go sour between their fathers, but it was only last night he'd sent the coordinates. Loki had made no promises to actually come, but Thor didn't seem surprised to see him.

“Where exactly are we?” Loki let his eyes pass around the room.

It was small, taken up almost completely by a large sofa and an old rug which stretched out before the fire. Two closed doors on the back wall hid what Loki assumed to be a bathroom and a kitchen.

The fire cracked loudly and spat out a small spray of embers as Thor poked at it. “It’s just a place I knew about. It’s abandoned.”

“You don’t say,” Loki couldn’t help but snark.

A short wooden staircase led to a mezzanine floor that overlooked the living room, and though the light from the fire didn’t do much to illuminate the space Loki assumed it was intended to be a bedroom.

“Where's your stuff?” Thor asked, ignoring Loki’s comment. He stood to full height then, somehow seeming to block even more light than he did when he was crouching right over the fireplace.

It wasn’t that Loki forgot how Thor looked whenever they were apart, it was just that he tended to convince himself that he must be _mentally embellishing_. Surely nobody was that tall, that broad, surely nobody actually had eyes that managed to be icy blue and warm at the same time?

And yet, here he was.

Loki cleared his throat. “In the car.”

Thor’s cheeks dimpled as he tried to fight a smile. He always did that; like he found Loki funny but knew a laugh wouldn’t be appreciated. “Aren't you staying?”

Passing his eyes once more around the place, Loki lifted a shoulder. “Haven't decided yet.”

Thor made it across the small room in just two steps, eyes bright and amused, and planted one hand on the door beside Loki’s head. “Hm. What can I do to convince you?”

For a moment he entertained Loki’s unimpressed stare - only for a moment.

And then Thor was kissing him, slow but not gentle, thick fingers sliding up his throat to grasp, possessive, at his jaw, steadying him.

It had taken Loki months to let Thor kiss him - after the first, frustrated crash of mouths that started it all he had insisted, stubbornly, on impersonal fucks that made Thor grit his teeth in frustration - but then one day he’d tilted his chin up, mid-fuck, and let Thor slide determined, desperate lips over his.

Ever since then he hadn't been able to stop him. Didn’t really want to.

It’d been so long - _too long_ \- since they were last alone together and, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Loki had missed Thor. Not just the touch of him or the taste, not just the reality but the _promise_ of him, the notion that he could get through this day and the next because sometime soon they’d be called upon to meet again in some dark abandoned place where they would exchange money and drugs at the behest of their fathers, and exchange spit and come at the behest of their unfaltering lust for each other.

They had each been at their father's shoulder during the last meeting, both too tense in the brittle atmosphere to take any enjoyment from being in each other’s vicinity. Thor had tried desperately to catch Loki’s eye as Laufey gathered his things and left but Loki had denied him, too scared of what it would mean for them if their families became rivals once again.

 _We don’t need their permission_ Thor had told him via text. Loki had scoffed at the time, but here they were, mouth to mouth again.

Thor’s hands moved around his waist, beneath his jacket, and Loki let slip a soft moan.

Pulling back, Thor smiled. “Hungry?” he said, rather than taking smug acknowledgment in Loki’s pleasure.

Loki wasn’t hungry at all, but he nodded.

He headed out to grab his bag while Thor busied himself in the freezing cold kitchen emptying the bags of food he’d brought with him.

The tips of Loki’s fingers and ears hadn’t quite lost the sharp sting of cold from before but they flared up tenfold as he stepped back outside, using his earlier footprints to make it back to the car without further inflicting the snow upon his boots.

He’d always loved the sound of his Jaguar unlocking, often his only escape from Laufey and the world he forced Loki to exist in, but now he paused as he pulled open the driver side door, gaze falling on the briefcase in the passenger footwell, on the handcuffs glinting in the moonlight.

 _“You’re my insurance,”_ Laufey had told him the first time he clipped them on - one side to the briefcase and the other to Loki’s wrist. He’d made it sound like such an important job.

Loki didn't need to look down at the scar on his wrist; the ugly pink of it was burnt into his brain.

Thor had offered, with seething sincerity, to murder Laufey in his sleep the first time he saw the damage. A drop-off gone wrong, a vigilante associate of Laufey’s who had decided he could go it alone - take the briefcase even if he had to take Loki’s hand with it.

He'd sliced deep into Loki’s wrist with a _switchblade_ before Loki had been able to overpower him, and even that had felt more like luck than skill. He'd embedded his assailant’s own knife neatly between two of his ribs and bent double to vomit from the pain as the guy had stumbled away, keeling over noisily.

Loki hadn't stuck around to check if he was dead.

On the phone Laufey had told him not to be ridiculous, he couldn't arrive at the hospital with his wrist handcuffed to a briefcase full of money. No, he'd have to drive back to the firm first to have the cuffs removed.

Loki had nearly passed out from blood loss by the time he got back, his clothes and car interior soaked with it, the tang of copper sharp in his nostrils and on his tongue.

He'd bought the Jaguar once he was all healed up, a gift to himself for his trouble, and had vowed never to lose even a drop of blood inside of it. It had seemed like a safe haven to him, his own car, his own space, something Laufey had no say in or control over.

Now, with one knee on the backseat and one hand on his night bag, Thor waiting in the warmth for him, it felt like the only thing tying him to that life.

Lifting his night bag out of the car he slammed the door behind him, leaving the briefcase and handcuffs where they lay.

Depositing his things at the foot of the staircase he headed into the kitchen where Thor was waiting for him.

“I’m not the best cook,” he said, sliding a toasted sandwich in front of Loki, melted cheese oozing from the sides like lava. “But these I can do.”

-

The heat ebbed and flowed, Thor wasn’t as good at keeping the fire lit as he would’ve liked to think, but that only offered them the perfect excuse to press together on the long sofa, tightly wrapped in each other.

Thor clasped their fingers together, levelling Loki with a serious look.

“I think Odin plans to have Laufey killed,” he eventually said.

Loki nodded, hoping to give the impression of apathy. “Oh good, I worried he was simply over-reacting when he hired a fifth bodyguard.”

Thor didn’t seem to think it was funny.

For years he'd always greeted Loki with flirtation, playful suggestion, smirking and winking before confidently making his move. It was only lately, as things became uncertain, that Loki had been exposed to this side of him; serious, worried.

He was frowning now, fingers still threaded with Loki’s. “What are we going to do?”

Shrugging, Loki moved to straddle Thor’s lap, mouths close. “Let’s let them kill each other and take over their respective empires.”

He meant it mostly as a joke, sure Thor wouldn’t appreciate it as an honest suggestion, but when he pulled back a little he found Thor’s brows knitted together, pensive.

“And rule them together?” he asked, pondering.

Loki kissed him, brief. “Actually I was hoping we could be bitter rivals who hate-fuck instead.”

Thor smiled, lopsided, but his hold on Loki’s waist tightened. “Is that what we do? Hate-fuck?”

The moment hung between them, eye-contact lingering. Loki was used to staring down clients, gaze unwavering, determined not to be bested, and he wasn’t about to be bested by Thor either, or forced into verbalising his feelings.

Thor blinked first but he grinned with it, like he didn’t really need Loki to say the words, and Loki didn’t feel at all like he won.

-

The heat from the fire reached the upper floor only enough to soften the chill, and though the bed was buried beneath a heap of blankets it was cold when Loki climbed in.

“Jesus, could you not have brought me somewhere warm?”

Thor climbed halfway up the stairs until his head and shoulders were visible to Loki, his response muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. A white dribble of foamy toothpaste rolled down into his beard and Loki shifted to face away.

He wasn't used to seeing Thor so...homely and _soft_ , clad in white cotton t-shirts and _pottering around_.

Thor retreated downstairs and Loki began to drift off, tucked under the heavy blankets that were thankfully starting to warm. The mattress was comfortable, thick, and dipped with a creak when Thor finally turned off all the lights and climbed in too.

He was in bed for barely a minute before he reached out to tuck Loki in against him.

Loki’s eyes flashed open in the darkness.

They'd never done this - Loki had never _snuggled_ with anyone - so he couldn't help but stiffen up.

“Relax,” Thor murmured, slowly brushing a sleepy hand along Loki’s forearm to pat at the back of his hand. “You can pretend it's because you're cold and not because you like me.”

“I don't,” Loki told him, barely a whisper. “I don't like you.”

Thor smiled against the nape of his neck. “I know.”

-

The next morning Thor chopped wood out front in jeans, unfastened boots and an open shirt. Loki watched him from the window and told himself the warmth in his stomach was just the cheap coffee.

Loki made lunch, sliding a plate in front of Thor with an air of superiority. It wasn't much, only something he'd been able to scrabble together with the odd shopping choices Thor had made, but he'd managed to fancy it up on the plate.

Thor took a bite and shrugged, teasing, “Style over substance.”

Loki flicked his ear. “Perhaps if you shopped like an adult rather than a teenaged boy...”

Thor clearly didn't feel the need to defend himself, busy with eating instead, and after a moment Loki brought his own plate over.

They sat opposite each other, like it was common practice for them, and ate in companionable quiet.

Thor finished long before him but only pushed his plate aside and continued to sit there, seemingly happy to observe Loki doing something as inane as eating.

“I have a brother,” he eventually said, perhaps to fill the silence. It was information Loki hadn't had before. A younger Odinson. At Loki’s surprise Thor only nodded, shrugging one shoulder. “He’s fourteen so he's not involved in the business…”

There was an unspoken _yet_ on the end of Thor’s sentence. They both knew firsthand that it was only a matter of time for mafia kids.

He supposed Thor brought it up because he worried about the brat, about what would happen to him if Thor were to just disappear.

If he were to stay with Loki instead of going home.

“We don't know who his mother is,” he added, like it made a difference somehow.

In an attempt to reassure him that it didn't, Loki offered, “We don't know who my mother is either.”

There was silence for a moment but Thor didn't react to Loki’s confession, almost as if he’d known that secret for some time.

“Yeah,” he said, mouth a grim line. “And you're the one Laufey puts the handcuffs on.”

-

They spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the living room, shifting furniture, cleaning surfaces and standing out on the frozen porch patting dust out of the rug - a chore which took forever and for which Loki was thankful Thor had volunteered.

Loki cleaned up the bedroom too, while Thor got the generator outside working. He took one of the blankets from the bed and draped it over the sofa for comfort. They wouldn't need them all upstairs if Thor was going to insist on pressing every inch of himself to Loki while they slept.

By four, as the sun began to fade off beneath the trees again and Thor came back in to proudly switch on the overhead light, the concept of living there for a few weeks seemed a bit more realistic.

Later, Loki turned his phone on for the first time since he'd arrived.

Seventeen voicemails from Laufey and his various associates.

He switched it back off.

-

“It needs poking,” Thor murmured, nuzzling his cheek sleepily against Loki’s chest. It had been perhaps twenty minutes since he first draped himself there, heavy and tired.

Loki glanced over at the fire and found it almost down to its embers.

“You do it,” he replied, fingers buried in Thor’s hair. “You’re the one on top.”

It seemed to take Thor great effort to extract himself but he did so, crouching by the fire to prod at it until it sprouted a viable flame for another log. The skin of his lower back was visible between his jeans and t-shirt as he reached out with the poker and Loki longed to sink his teeth in there, if only to sooth it with his tongue afterwards.

Loki stayed where he was, lying prone, awaiting Thor’s return, but Thor only looked over his shoulder at him and paused. He was backlit by the growing fire but his expression seemed serious and Loki felt compelled to sit up.

“What is it?”

Upright on his knees Thor came back to him, hands sliding up his thighs, nuzzling into Loki’s space with his nose and cheek, lips seeking Loki’s own before he could repeat his question.

And then Loki was being pressed back against the sofa, large palm flat on his chest, and he only watched, saying nothing, as deft fingers made quick work of his trousers. Thor didn’t fumble once, opening them only enough to reach in and take out Loki’s cock.

“Thor,” Loki hissed through his teeth as Thor lowered his mouth.

They had done this only once, and briefly - due to inconvenience and lack of time - and so the wet heat of Thor’s tongue took Loki by surprise.

It turned out that, given the time to indulge himself, Thor was very good at this and he knew it, too. If it weren’t for the burning pleasure sparking low in Loki’s belly he’d have surely pulled away just to nip Thor’s smugness in the bud.

-

They needed to shop.

Loki was standing in a patch of sunlight, bright white reflecting off the snow outside, while the kettle boiled - too slowly - on the stove. He had the last of the milk ready to pour. Thor’s footsteps were heavy behind him, the floorboards whining in complaint beneath his bulk.

“Morning,” Thor mumbled, a sleep-soft growl, and then slipped both arms around Loki’s waist just to rest himself there against his back.

It was so comfortably domestic that Loki’s instinct was to shy away from it.

Instead, he lowered the flame on the stove and turned in Thor’s arms, tilting his head up for a kiss.

Thor tasted like toothpaste and he moaned into Loki’s mouth, no doubt pleasantly surprised to be embraced instead of coolly dismissed. Loki found that he quite enjoyed the idea of surprising Thor. Of pleasing him.

“We have barely anything to eat,” he said against Thor’s lips. “We’ll either have to drive to the nearest town or starve.”

Thor let out a slow breath, fingers tightening momentarily on Loki’s waist. “What if we just go back to bed? Hibernate like bears?”

Huffing out a laugh, Loki turned in Thor’s arms again to face the stove.

“Is that a no?” There was a clear pout in Thor’s voice.

Leaning over to switch off the flame completely, Loki let his arse grind back against Thor’s crotch, unable to hide his shudder when Thor growled and leaned in to mouth at the crook of his shoulder.

-

Loki won the race upstairs by mere seconds and immediately appropriated Thor’s side of the bed, covetous of the warmth he'd recently left behind. Buried to his neck in the thick blankets he whined loudly as Thor stood at the foot of the bed and tugged hard, uncovering him from the waist up.

“Clothes off,” Thor demanded, already stripping himself of his own shirt.

Instead of following the order Loki watched him, covetous of his body too. Thor let him look but didn't make a show of undressing himself, and once he was fully naked again he crawled up the bed to kneel over Loki, caging him in.

“What did I say?” he tilted his head, puppy-like, making a mockery of his demanding tone.

Loki hummed, walking two fingers down Thor’s abdomen and enjoying how it jumped beneath his touch. His cock jumped beneath his touch too, Thor’s eyes pinching closed.

“I'm too cold,” Loki said, stroking.

Thor gasped, hips shifting into Loki’s touch. “I'll warm you up.”

It was clearly a strain on Thor to pull Loki’s hand away but he did it, kicking the blankets off the rest of the way and making quick work of Loki’s clothes. He took a long time looking Loki over, eyes moving slowly over pale inner thighs and hardening cock, and all the way up from his soft, flat stomach to the flush beneath his neck.

When he met Loki’s eyes again his gaze seemed weighty, important somehow.

“Do you trust me?”

He looked so odd, his expression so open like he was sure he knew the answer but needed to _hear_ it.

Loki’s jaw clenched as he shook his head.

 Thor’s gaze didn't falter, but the space between his brows crinkled with the threat of a frown. Truthfully, Loki was unsure how long Thor was going to be content with offerings of false hostility in place of honesty.

 So he offered the best he could, on a soft breath. “I'm here, aren't I?”

And that was enough for Thor, who leaned down to kiss him again.

He hadn't shaved since they arrived but, unlike times before, Loki was able to enjoy the scratch of bristles against his cheek and jaw and lips without worrying that Laufey would grip his chin between ungentle fingers and ask with disgust what on earth he'd been up to.

And so enjoy it Loki did, chasing Thor’s mouth with a seeking tongue. He allowed Thor to lift his arms above his head and plant them high up against the headboard, holding him there. He tested the hold, just to see, gasping as Thor only tightened his fingers.

If Thor wanted power Loki would allow it - for a short time.

He parted his lips, let only the tip of his tongue snake out, and Thor readily accepted the offer, swiping his own tongue at the tip of Loki’s, open mouthed and sharing hot breath.

It was playful, light-hearted, and so when Loki pulled back with a smile he was puzzled to find Thor’s expression still somewhat grave.

He frowned, opened his mouth to ask, but his question was cut off by the familiar _snick_ of a cuff clicking shut around his wrist.

He flinched, instinctively pulling only to find himself caught there, the cold bite of metal against his skin. “Thor-” he breathed, panicked.

Thor hushed him, soothed, running a flat palm along Loki’s flank. “You trust me, remember?” 

Loki tugged again, gritting his teeth, but Thor didn't move to comfort him further. His eyes were soft, patient, and after a moment Loki ceased his pulling.

The other cuff, link threaded behind one of the headboard slats, locked around his other wrist. And that was new. Even after his injury Loki had used the same wrist, unable to drive with the money cuffed to the other side.

Odd that a feeling so familiar to one side of his body could be entirely alien to the other.

“Okay?” Thor murmured, fingertips brushing the soft underside of Loki’s arms.

They weren't quite his cuffs, they didn't chafe at his skin the same way, but they were close enough; cold, unyielding metal that rattled when he gave an experimental tug.

“What the fuck are you going to do?” He gave the question a heavy air of annoyance to mask the way his heart rate had spiked, the way his fingers were shaking when he unclenched them.

He hated nothing more than being cuffed and Thor knew it. To use it against him seemed nothing short of cruel.

Thor's only response, though, was to take hold of him by the back of the thighs and lift them until he was bent almost in two.

“Thor-” Loki grunted, ass in the air and knees uncomfortably close to his ears. He felt ridiculous, bound and exposed. “Fuck. what're you-”

Then, without letting his gaze slip from Loki's for even a blink, Thor lowered his mouth to sink his teeth into the pale meat of Loki’s buttock.

His tongue followed and a breath stuttered loose from Loki’s tight throat. He watched, helpless, as Thor kissed and nipped from the soft roundness where thigh met cheek to where the skin pulled taut across bone - and then beyond, into the cleft, tongue slick and hot.

Loki tried Thor’s name again but the moment he opened his mouth a moan tumbled out. Thor paused, eyes on Loki.

“I'm going to eat you out,” he said, a promise, using his thumbs to part Loki’s cheeks.

The sound that escaped Loki’s chest then was almost inhuman, strangled from him by the pull of Thor’s thumbs, the way his eyes dropped to gaze hungrily at Loki’s hole. Loki felt himself twitch there, in anticipation, and Thor let out a low groan, tongue snaking out as he lowered his mouth.

“Thor,” Loki just about managed, begging though he wasn't sure what for. Don't? _Do_? He'd never...nobody had ever tried to-

And then his thoughts were silenced by the first, exploratory lick.

It was almost shy, just a flick of tongue, and it felt strange, exciting, _brand new_. The cuffs rattled as Loki clenched his fists.

When he next met Thor’s eyes he found them dark and pleased, determined, his gaze laying heavy on Loki as he flattened his tongue and licked more broadly, more soundly across Loki’s entrance, wet and hot and _good_.

Loki’s thighs twitched on a hitch of breath, knees attempting to pull together around Thor’s head but hindered by the breadth of his imposing shoulders.

The focus of Loki’s entire world seemed to narrow rapidly to the flat thick of Thor’s tongue as it slid over him, to the pointed tip as he began to work it inside.

“Ah, _god_ ,” Loki ground out, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to blur.

The pressure was different, slick and easy, his muscle parting more keenly for it, coaxed by the the smooth glide and narrow point of Thor’s tongue, the soft tease of it as it slipped in and out. He felt himself flutter around it, _give_ , and he mourned the loss as Thor pulled back to lick broadly at him again.

Loki’s throat clicked around a swallow, he wasn't quick enough to catch the soft whine that followed.

“I knew you'd like it,” Thor lifted his head to smile, smug but not at Loki’s expense, thumbing rough circles at the spit-wet furl of Loki’s muscle. His beard was wet too, his lips shiny, and Loki thought hotly about kissing him, tasting himself there.

“Yeah?” he answered, aiming for derision but betrayed by his shaking voice. “Then why did you feel the need to tie me up?”

Thor’s mouth turned up at one corner. “You're not very good at doing what you're told.”

A laughable claim, considering Loki had spent _most of his life_ doing what he was told, but he didn't have time to argue before Thor was dipping back down, breath a hot promise across his hole.

With a grin, Thor used the finger and thumb of one hand to part Loki almost uncomfortably wide. Loki shuddered, complained weakly, eyes wide as Thor made a show of pressing his tongue back inside, deeper than before, until his teeth and lips were flush with the skin and his nose nudged Loki’s perineum.

His tongue was so deep, so thick at its widest point that Loki felt Thor’s presence there as acutely as he'd have felt two of his thick fingers.

It was the best and the worst thing Loki had ever felt, depriving him of all control, curling his toes and grinding his teeth, devastating.

Thor’s hunger for it made it feel all the more intimate, more primal, his tongue working instinctive and imprecise, in and out of Loki in no discerning rhythm, and yet he didn't shift his gaze for even a moment.

His eyes were bright, pleased, like he'd be grinning were his mouth not otherwise occupied, and Loki pulled instinctively at the cuffs again to no avail, eager to involve himself in the fun.

“Let me go,” he gritted out, demanding rather than asking, certainly not begging.

Thor lifted his head, tongue still held stiff for a moment before he pulled it back between his lips.

Loki wondered how strongly he lingered on Thor’s taste buds.

Thor hummed low, tilted his chin to drag his bristly beard against Loki’s inner thigh, affectionate. “No.”

“Just the one hand,” Loki rushed out. A negotiation, tactic one in getting what you wanted from your adversary. Thor was still unconvinced though, so Loki opted for a guilt trip instead, almost-pouting. “My scar is aching.” 

Thor did hesitate then, eyes shifting between Loki’s waiting hole and his wrist, and after a moment he raised up in a rush to fumble for the key, unlocking that side of the cuffs.

Loki breathed a sigh of relief,  tried to pull his other wrist down too, but immediately heard the released cuff click shut around one slat of the headboard.

It took him by surprise when Thor reached for his wrist, kissing the inside of it with his wet lips before tugging it down to the crook of Loki’s knee.

“Hold your thigh like this, don't let go,” he said, not stern but confident that Loki would follow the order.

“Or?” Loki huffed.

Thor only smirked, dropping down again, and though Loki did immediately let go of his thigh, it was only in order to tangle his fingers in Thor’s hair.

Thor didn't complain, though he did up the intensity of his tongue, thorough and vigorous in his pressing, seeking, _tasting_. Loki could do nothing but pull tighter, holding him in place while he ground his hips as best he could in this position, riding Thor’s face.

Being allowed some semblance of control, however minimal, brought Loki a different kind of thrill, and with each swipe and thrust of Thor’s tongue Loki nudged his hips up into it, pulled Thor’s face closer, needy as his approaching orgasm gained traction.

His fingers left the tangle of Thor’s hair almost of their own volition, drawn by need to the stiff curve of his own cock where it rested, leaking, against his stomach.

Thor snatched his hand away before he was able to provide himself any relief.

“Thor, please, I just need-” he whined, desperate and uncaring that he'd resorted to begging. He'd deny it later. “ _Please_.”

His begging fell on deaf ears for what felt like long minutes, his wrist held even tighter in Thor’s fist than it had been in the cuff while he writhed and moaned and _tried to breathe_ through the desperate pleasure of it.

Only in the final moment did Thor let go of his wrist, giving him enough time to stroke once, twice at himself with a tight fist before he was coming in pearly spurts over himself.

He shuddered with it, powerful spasms wracking his body, and though Thor slowed the pace of his tongue he didn't stop, keen to draw this out as long as he could. Loki felt himself contracting around Thor’s tongue and it tore a harsh noise from his throat, somewhere between shame and elation.

Afterwards, Thor crawled up slowly to drape himself over Loki, apparently content to sleep for now despite how his cock lay hard between them.

In no time at all his breathing had slowed, his mouth slack against Loki’s throat, each soft snore a warm caress. A familiar feeling swept over Loki then, warming him, filling him with a rare kind of contentment.

Loki knew what it was. And it wasn't the post-sex haze or cabin fever but rather something he had felt - and fought - for some time.

“Would they find us here?” he pondered, half-serious. More than half. “If we stayed?”

Thor let out a sleepy sigh, roused from his doze, and tightened his arm around Loki’s waist. “Yeah, they'd find us.”

And though Loki knew that would be the answer, it still hurt to hear it. The gentle lips that brushed his throat felt like a consolation rather than a comfort.

“There are other places though,” Thor murmured then. “Warm places, with beaches or lakes. Mountains, maybe.”

And Loki nodded, running his fingers through Thor’s hair.

“Mountains, maybe,” he repeated. “I think I'd like that.”

It wasn’t until later, when Thor was snoring soundly against his chest and Loki contemplated getting up for that cup of coffee he'd been dragged away from, that he realised he was still cuffed to the headboard.

-


End file.
